Paper walls
by starcrossed-passion
Summary: Leah pretty much knew that her life was screwed when she decided to let the pack have their way and plan her wedding. Sequel to New Perspective!


**Twilight fan fiction. **

**Leah X Jacob**

**Read and Review!**

**I don't usually say this, but, screw Bella. Screw the Cullens. Blackwater all the way! :D **

**BTW: This is the sequel to New Perspective, so read that first**

**Imprint**

**2. Any impression or impressed effect. **

**It comes naturally**

**Day (1) **

**Google Maps Location: The house. A typical Wednesday afternoon. Or so she thought. **

Leah Clearwater had never been a fan of sitting still. She had always been restless; always looking for outlets of energy to dedicate herself to.

Today, it was kick boxing.

Did she mention that the _thing _she was kicking was Quil? She didn't? Oh well. Now you knew. With every kick she lashed out, she worried. It was always the same; it had become a routine, even.

Every day at six, when Jacob was on his way home from his job at the garage, Leah worried. She worried that he would come home different; that he would come home only to bid her farewell again because he had imprinted. _Imprinted. _The word tasted bitter and wrong against her tongue, a force of nature, practically an abnormality.

"Ow! Jeez, Leah. Could you go back to the Namaste thing instead of picking up kick boxing?" Quil's annoying whimpers echoed around the forest, and Leah grinned at the memory of all the classes she had picked up to fill her empty days.

First, there had been Tai Chi. She had dragged a reluctant Seth along with her then. It was rather regretful to report that she left after the second lesson; Seth, on the other hand, has been taking regular classes after he found his imprintee during his _sun salutations. _

Then, there had been Yoga. She brought Embry with her this time, his eagerness due to the fact that the Yoga teacher was a Natalie Portman look-a-like. She got sick of saying Namaste after the third lesson, so she quit. Embry stayed to stare at the Yoga's teacher 'perfectly rounded (His words. Not hers) ass'.

Next, she had picked Kung Fu. Figuring that Paul would be up for the job, she brought him along. They had to leave after the third lesson due to the fact that Paul broke the instructor's pinky finger after they shook hands.

And now, she had decided to pick up kickboxing with Quil. Well, technically, not _with _Quil. More like, she was kickboxing _at _Quil, but really, why get into all the technicalities?

"The things we do for you." Quil mumbled as he shook his head, slipping on his gray shirt as he checked his watch. He was three minutes late for his play date with Claire. She was going to be disappointed that he was going to miss the beginning of Alvin and the Chipmunks.

Leah snorted, scooping up her towel and dabbing the sweat dry. She hated to admit it; but the worst part of moving in with Jacob was the _waiting. _Waiting to her; felt like a ticking time bomb waiting to be defused in the pit of her stomach. Unforgiving; until it was finally defused, or worse, exploded.

Moving in with Jacob was a two year decision. He had asked her plenty of times over the course of their four year relationship, but she had mostly denied them, her pitiful excuses mostly revolving around Seth and Sue getting lonely.

It had finally boiled down to the day where Jacob had sneaked in through her window, flyer in hand as he gleefully bounded into the bed and told her that he had bought 'their' house.

'Their' house was a small two level house that was on the border of La Push, the peeling red paint and broken windows were signs of its age, but they didn't really give a damn. After two new coats of paint and varnish, the house, though abnormally small, was presentable and well, livable.

Swinging the towel across her neck, Leah made her way into the house, wondering if Jacob would be okay with pop tarts for dinner. After several failed attempts at making Jacob's favourite steak (The smoke alarm went off.) Leah settled on microwave-able foods and takeaways. It wasn't _her _lack of cooking skills, she often explained, it was the _kitchen. _It's too small to even walk in, let alone cook.

The usual sound of the car rolling on gravel set off another round of anxiety attacks as Leah ambled over to the kitchen and shoved the pop tarts into the microwave.

It had been this way four years; and no, she never stopped being anxious. Some would say that she would have wasted her life away; always being shrouded in anxiety. At this point of time, Leah would have just flipped her middle finger and told the person to fuck off.

"Hey."

Warm hands encircled her waist, and Leah exhaled, the simple sensation sending goose bumps scuttling over her bare arms. He was _imprint-free _for _now. _

"What are we having for dinner?" He said as he swung himself up on the counter, his head nearly touching the dusty light bulb above him.

'Pop tarts." She raised her eyebrows, as if to challenge him to question the fact that they had been eating pop tarts for dinner for the past week.

"Sounds good." He mumbled as he pretended to examine the marble counter top with fascination. Leah felt her heart skip a beat in her chest. No. _No. _Dull buzzing filled her ears as she gripped the counter for support, her mouth dry as she forced the question out of her mouth.

"Have you imprinted or something?"

His intense black eyes found hers; and Leah was gripped with fear. Here was inevitable moment when he would tell her to leave; when he would tell her that they were never meant to be; that they were just not destined for each other. She felt her insides run cold at the thought.

"Look," He exhaled, tracing shapes on the marble counter top. "This is really hard for me to say."

"Spit it out." The tears pinched the back of her eyelids, threatening to spill over. She gave all her attention to the pop tarts instead, arranging them neatly on the plate as she shoved them back into the microwave.

"Leah. We've been _together _for a really long time, so I really think that this is the right time-"

"To dump me for your new imprint?" The words exploded out from her mouth, each syllable pressing hard against her tongue, leaving it raw and wounded as a single tear spilled out.

Jacob stared, his expression unfathomable as he spoke again.

"Nope." The word resounded against the tiny room, its echoes mocking Leah for being such a _paranoid. _

"Okay." Regaining control of her emotions, Leah brushed the moisture away quickly as she shoved the pop tarts back into the microwave, not really concentrating on the fact that they were already burning.

He took her hand; his rough, big hands caressed her delicate ones for a minute, tracing a single heart shape against her cool skin.

Black eyes met chlorine green ones for a fraction of a minute before he spoke.

"Will you marry me?"

The pop tarts chose that exact moment to explode; jam splattering all over the microwave screen door as the smoke alarm bellowed a shrill scream.

Their moment was over.


End file.
